Chapter Text
“The Seventh Seal has been broken. Wyrmwood has fallen from the sky and turned the rivers to blood and fire. The bottomless pit has been opened and my swarms of locusts and scorpions have ravaged humanity. The world has been remade in my father’s image.”
The witches were so smug, so sure that they could defeat him, it was truly baffling. On and on they went about spitting vitriol and petty insults. It made no difference, he wasn’t even half interested in their quips. Michael figured it was only a matter of time before he got bored of the games and decided to end it all without a second thought of giving them a chance….but he knew he would anyway. He didn’t exactly *need* the witches at the Sanctuary, but it was his own selfishness that forced him to offer.
“I could annihilate all of you within a second and the world would go on without missing a beat. You, and all of your work will be forgotten in the rubble of the past.” Stepping forward, he eyed them all from his position at the top of the stairs. “But I want to give you a future. Fall to your knees and accept me as your lord and savior and I will bring you to the table as my obedient subjects..”
The sound of Cordelia’s chuckle ringing through the air made the hair on the nape of his neck stand up. He knew she would be defiant, it was within her nature, both as who she was as a person and as Supreme. Even though he didn’t particularly care one way or another, there was still a pang of...something...some strange emotion at the expression she wore that he didn’t have time to examine.
Ms. Mead spoke then, her voice loud and strong. “Imbeciles! Fall to your knees before the king! Hail Satan!”
His loyal Ms. Mead. She always knew how to bolster his confidence. Confidence that took a hit not two seconds later when Cordelia decided to speak this time instead of laugh at him.
“The only way we would sit at your table is if your decapitated head were the centerpiece.”
Before he could issue a response, Dinah stepped up beside Cordelia. Michael listened, taking in what was unfolding before him with only limited interest. He’d known the so called voodoo queen was on his side, it was a guarantee after everything his father had done for her. Although, for her to publicly declare it in front of the others made him smirk wickedly.
The appearance of Marie Laveau had been somewhat of a surprise, but not exactly a problem. She wasn’t a real threat, none of them were in his mind, so he let them squabble. He could admit, at least to himself, that it was slightly entertaining to watch as Marie’s machete nearly took off Dinah’s head. The loss of an ally was a small annoyance, but he supposed it saved him from undoubtedly having to kill her later. If she turned on her own kind, there would be nothing to keep her from turning on him. Better for her to die now, at the hands of someone else.
Bored of the theatrics, a glance was given to his trustworthy Ms. Mead as he mentally provided the command to open fire. She prepared her weapon, and Michael heard Cordelia utter a word that dropped his heart into his gut.
“Confringe!”
Ms. Mead began to malfunction immediately, strange noises emanated from her mouth that was opened far too widely, her head thrashing and jerking about. He watched with something close to terror in his eyes, that carefully constructed mask of arrogance slipping as he felt true fear for his right hand.
“Ms. Mead?”
The blast wave was violent, a force powerful enough to throw him over the railing of the stairs. He hit the floor heavily on his back, the breath knocked completely from him. Michael gasped and sputtered, trying to replenish oxygen to his lungs as he opened his eyes. After noticing something in his peripheral vision, accompanied by a wet, gurgling sound, he turned his attention to his left. Ms. Mead’s detached head lay beside him in a pool of her own internal fluids. Moving onto his side, he picked up the head gingerly, listening as she eerily sang an old tune he instantly recognized.
“Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I’m half crazy, all for the love of you…”
Tears instantly sprang from his eyes, sliding down his face which was spattered with the milky white substance that would be forever be remembered as her blood. It was painful watching her die all over again, a surge of emotion causing him to tremble. Seeing his Ms. Mead in so many shattered pieces brought back all the feelings of rage from the first time she was murdered by Cordelia. They only just had a reunion, and now here he was without her once again. Sure, she could be rebuilt, but that didn’t help him now. After setting the severed head back onto the floor, Michael stood and turned, ready to avenge his fallen right hand.
“Sorry about your little toy….bitch..”
He was greeted by the sight of Madison, wielding the gun that had been built into Ms. Mead’s right arm. There was a brief thought of surprise before she opened fire on him, then there was only pain. Every bullet felt like white hot puncture wound, lighting up his entire core in a sheer mass of bleeding agony. Distantly, he felt his back slam against the wall, his legs buckling underneath his body as he slid to the floor. The last thing he saw was the group of witches huddled across from him, his vision blurring as darkness finally ate the world.
Dying wasn’t pleasant, and coming back to life was just as undesirable. He ached all over, but his chest hurt the most and faintly...his head? His scalp felt raw in one spot as if some of his hair had been torn out, but he couldn’t remember why. After standing once again, he noticed the other witches had fled, leaving only Madison to watch him.
“Oh fuck...I guess it’s back to retail.”
Holding his hand out towards her, Michael envisioned what he wanted to happen, expending just enough power to make it so as his fingers clenched into a tight fist. That pretty blonde head exploded like a ripe melon, her lifeless body falling to the floor in a heap. After cracking his neck, he went up the stairs, following the unmistakable trace of energy the witches left behind.
As he made his way towards what could only be Cordelia and the rest of them, Marie Laveau tried to block his way. After uttering some inane voodoo babble, she sprinkled a substance onto the floor, huffing before staring at Michael with confidence.
“You will not pass.”
He tried to push forward and found that it was slightly more difficult than it should have been. Her look was triumphant as he scowled at her.
“You dealin’ with the HBIC now!”
“You really think your stupid voodoo spells can stop me?” He smiled at her, arrogant and unpleasant as he tilted his head a second before thrusting his arm forward, plunging his hand within her chest cavity. Leaning in, he wrapped his fingers around her heart, clutching it as he hissed in her face. “Is that all you’ve got?”
She managed to speak once again, nearly breathless from his hold on one of her most vital organs. “Not..exactly..”
While he was preoccupied with Laveau, he didn’t sense Coco coming up behind him. The only thing that alerted him to her presence was the sudden sharp pain of a knife in his back.
“Die again, fuckface!”
Glancing down at the tip of the blade, now protruding through the middle of his chest, he turned his body, keeping his hand still wrist deep within Marie’s chest. His eyes moved from the knife to Coco and he groaned slightly, touching the tip of the metal with his free hand.
“Normally that’d work..” With a twist, he ripped the voodoo queen’s heart clear of her body, the tissues, arteries, and veins that held it securely tearing like paper. Her body dropped backwards as he held the organ up, smiling as he watched Coco pale even under the hideous makeup she was wearing. “But I’m nothing like normal.”
Bringing the heart up to his waiting mouth, his eyes never left Coco’s face as he took a large bite. His teeth sank into the still warm muscle easily before tearing it away from his now bloody lips, chewing and savoring the mouthful. He licked the blood from the corner of his mouth, using his free hand to snap his fingers, causing Coco’s neck to twist unnaturally. Once she was dead, he reached behind himself and grabbed the hilt of the blade she buried in his back. With a grunt, he pulled it free, rolling his neck to work out the kinks in his spine before going in search of the rest of the witches.
It wasn’t hard to find them, he only had to follow their energy signatures, three of them left, one of which was fading fast. With a little concentration he recognized that it was Mallory. Cordelia and Myrtle were still alive and well. Good. He would enjoy watching them both perish. After walking around a corner, he caught sight of Cordelia standing at the end of the short hallway that he knew lead downwards to another level. A smug smirk tugged at his mouth as he came to a stop.
“How did you think this would end? Prophecy is inevitable. I was always going to win, Miss Supreme.” His smirk turned into a look of disgust, nearly spitting the title at her with disdain.
Cordelia turned to look at him, it was clear she had been crying. He hoped she was in pain, feeling the loss of loved ones. “Not on your own. You’ve been lead by the hand. Coddled the entire way by your Father, the warlocks. I look at you and I don’t see a man. I see a sad, scared little boy..so pathetic he couldn’t even kill me with a thousand nuclear bombs.”
Her choice of insults were interesting, and maybe even held a slight bit of truth, but he couldn’t focus on that now. He was so close. “But I never expected to. Like a cockroach I knew you would survive the nuclear fallout. I wanted you to. And now I’m going to have to satisfaction of watching you die, knowing you failed.”
“You still don’t get it do you? Even now. You think there’s only winning and losing. Success and failure. But failure...is when you’ve lost any semblance of hope. You will get to watch me die..but you won’t find it satisfying.” She held out her hand, using her magic to call the blade out of his own, sending it flying into hers.
“Satan has one son...but my sisters are legion, motherfucker.” Before he could do anything to stop her, or even react, she plunged the blade directly into her chest, blood shooting out from the wound almost comically.
Michael’s jaw fell open, partly in shock. It was unexpected, but it didn’t matter. The only reason Cordelia would have done such a thing is to distract him, and there were still two other witches to take care of. Using his magic, he teleported into the other room where he knew Mallory and Myrtle were. Mallory had only just begun to chant as he appeared next to the tub.
“Tempus Infinit---”
Wasting no time, he leaned over and grabbed Mallory by the neck, lifting her bodily from the water with only one arm.
“Sorry Mallory...you won’t be going back in time today. I know you were looking forward to murdering me, but I win this go around..” His fingers easily crushed the fragile column, tearing the front of her throat completely out. A messy kill, crimson spraying wild, coating his face in a slick wash before her corpse dropped uselessly back into the tub with a splash.
Myrtle screamed, her hands raised up to cast defensively, but Michael was faster. Her body flew into the wall, pinned, choking and coughing, desperate for air. He knew he must be a sight, covered in blood, blue eyes burning with the heat of battle as he walked towards her slowly, a sweet smile playing on his lips. “Looks like I’ve finally gotten rid of all the witches. Do you think Daddy would be proud of me?” Leaning in, he inhaled through his nose, smelling her fear as his smile widened. “You are well and truly fucked now, Myrtle Snow.”
“Do what you will, demon. Let me rejoin my...sisters.” Her voice was small, barely able to speak considering he was focusing his power solely on her, using it like a vise, slowly crushing her body like a tin can.
“Join them? Oh...of course. I have a special place picked out just for you, Mallory and Madison. I decided to let Coco and Marie go..wherever their souls were meant to go. Less is more in this case. You see..I took a page out of your Supreme’s book...all three of your souls will belong to me, and now that Mallory is dead, her power will revert back to Cordelia, causing her resurrection since there isn’t anywhere else for it to go..” Michael looked her over for a moment, then shook his head. “It’s truly a pity we couldn’t all just get along..I think you would have liked the Sanctuary. I’m sure Cordelia and I will have a lovely time..who knows, maybe she’ll even start to like me..”
“Not if you keep dressing like that, foul….thing..” Mustering up the last of her energy, the older witch tilted her head a moment before spitting directly into Michael’s face.
Despite the rude act, he flashed her a brilliant smile, giving her a wink before moving back and wiping the spit away. He said nothing else, keeping his smile as he watched, his power crushing her body into nothing but a bloody red pile of unrecognizable meat and viscera. The smile he wore faded, upper lip curling in disgust as he eyed the mess, then made his way out of the room.
That smile returned as he walked down the steps, watching as the pool of blood that was spreading out from under Cordelia’s body began to disappear, seeping back into where it belonged. Once he made it to the bottom, he knelt beside her, placing one hand over her chest, his other arm cradling her head in the crook of his elbow, closing his eyes as he focused. He could feel it, her pulse flaring to life, slow and thready, weak...but there all the same. His smile widened once he heard her take a gasping breath. He turned his head, eyes no longer blue, but as black as coal as he opened them and looked upon her as she slowly came to.
“Welcome back, Miss Cordelia..”
Dark brown hues blinked once, then twice, focusing as the realization sank in. Michael saw the look of absolute fear in her gaze before it was cut off abruptly, her body going limp in his arms as she slipped back into unconsciousness.